


Hocus Pocus

by spookyghostcurves



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Birthday, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyghostcurves/pseuds/spookyghostcurves
Summary: Part of Shiro's Birthday Exchange by vldexchange on tumblr.A curse is defined as “the invocation of supernatural power to inflict harm upon someone or something.” For the most part, curses bring misfortune and bad luck to whoever is foolish enough to piss off a witch. And Keith was no stranger to pissing people off. (Or foolishness.)//Hocus Pocus inspired AU in which Keith has been cursed to live forever as a cat and Shiro is a warlock who helps magical beings in need.





	Hocus Pocus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fox_an_hound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fox_an_hound/gifts).



A curse is defined as “the invocation of supernatural power to inflict harm upon someone or something.” For the most part, curses bring misfortune and bad luck to whoever is foolish enough to piss off a witch. And Keith was no stranger to pissing people off. (Or foolishness.)

Being human seemed like such a distant memory. It was hard to believe that he’d lived nearly two decades on two feet before he’d gotten himself turned into a house cat. He had one tiff with the town crazy woman and his life was changed forever. It seemed he was frozen in time, doomed to life infinite days wandering from town to town as a stray. He couldn’t speak. He had no family to go to for help. The most difficult part of the curse was realizing that no one missed him when he was gone. Loneliness wasn’t new to him, but now it wasn’t by choice.

Keeping track of the dates was difficult but Keith could tell years were going by around him. He saw new technologies emerging; people walking around with tiny boxes they could use to speak to one another, and then to send written messages and snap pictures; how quickly cars improved and grew. A bus had once hit him, only proving that he was unable to die. One minute he was crushed beneath a tire and the next he was waking up as if from a nap.

Most human interactions he got were the times he was shooed away from garbage cans or children wandered over to him. He learned early to run from teenagers, especially on Halloween. So he didn’t settle anywhere, just wandered from town to town without rhyme or reason, days blurring into each other through a lens of melancholy.

Keith was understandably surprised when a human actively sought him out.

His ears perked up when he heard the crunch of footsteps through the fresh blanket of winter snow. He’d settled in beneath a discarded Christmas tree for the night, and wasn’t expecting to see anyone else out so late in the upper class neighborhood he’d recently claimed as his stomping ground. It was easy to spot the figure walking towards him – the stranger was a tall column of black against the white landscape. A long dark pea coat covered most of him, a plush scarf left only his eyes uncovered, and a wide brimmed black hat topped everything off. One hand was extended at waist level before him, and as he got closer Keith could see a crystal hanging on a long chain from his middle finger. The pendulum was eerily still; not swaying with every step the man took. As he passed Keith’s tree the pendulum suddenly pointed at him, and the fur along his spine stood on end.

Witchcraft.

In a rare instance, flight overtook fight as Keith’s immediate response. He darted out of the tree’s bristles just as the stranger turned to look at him, the pendulum’s pointed tip following him as he belted across the snow. “Wait!” the stranger said, but Keith paid no mind. He was nearly around the corner when he felt a tug on his ankle, and suddenly he was being pulled right back towards the waiting warlock.

The man was tilting a thin wand back towards himself, a fishing rod of sorts that was reeling Keith in. He pawed at the ground to see if he could latch onto something, but only managed to burrow deeper into cold powder. The man crouched low as Keith got closer, and pushed his scarf down to reveal more of his face. A white lock of hair peeked out from under his hat, and a long scar across his nose marred otherwise flawless skin. “You don’t have to be scared, I just want to help you-“ he began, earning a hiss from Keith when he tried to reach out to him. With a knowing nod, he tucked the wand away and showed Keith his open left palm. For the first time, Keith realized the man’s right sleeve was completely empty.

“My name is Shiro,” he started once again, a kindness in his eyes that Keith hadn’t seen in years. “I know you’re no regular cat. I can help you, I promise. At least let me get you some real food and a place to get out of the snow.”

The hold on his ankle released and Keith got to his feet. He was ready to run again, but really… where would he go?

With a narrow-eyed glare, Keith stepped up closer and allowed Shiro to scoop him up. “You’re freezing!” he said as he straightened up, fumbling Keith a bit to maneuver him into the welcoming warmth of his oversized scarf. Shiro only went two blocks before Keith was asleep, lulled by unfamiliar comfort and the smell of rosemary and lavender.

\---

Shiro, as it turned out, was a rather astute warlock. His apartment was only one room, but there were books and scrolls tucked in to every nook and cranny. Stairs led up to a lofted bed above the main living area. Once Keith was fed and given time to rest, Shiro started talking to him again.

“So are you physically unable to speak or do you choose not to?” he began, lifting the feline onto a work desk and sitting down before him. Keith’s silence spoke volumes.

“Got it. I really hope you’re cursed and not just a regular cat… my dowsing skills have been off before. I once spent three days trying to exorcize a horse that I thought was possessed by dark spirits… he actually just had a bad combination of a cold and a nose bleed.”

Keith would have snickered.

“Let’s start with your name.” Shiro dug through a leather satchel at his feet before producing a bigger version of the phones Keith had seen around. He tapped at the glowing screen until there was a spread of letters on it, and then laid it down before Keith.

“Spell it out for me. Just touch each letter.”

Keith’s tail swayed as he gave it a try, tapping at the K and tilting his head when it appeared. The E followed, and ITH came even quicker.

“Keith.”

It was the first time he’d heard his own name in years. An unfamiliar rumbling sensation started in his chest, and he turned to look up at Shiro. The human wore the same kind smile as before, offering his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Keith. I’m sorry that this happened to you, and I promise I’ll do all I can to help.” As Keith timidly put his own tiny paw into Shiro’s hand, he realized that he was purring.

\---

What followed was days upon days of cleansing spells, each one coming from somewhere in Shiro’s library. Sometimes there were only words, sometimes in languages Keith didn’t understand. Eventually they got more involved; mixing dried herbs and bottled liquids with a mortar and pestle, burning candles, smearing ashes along Keith’s forehead. But nothing seemed to work. 

“This must be really old magic you’re dealing with,” Shiro sighed one day as he set a plate of cooked chicken down on the counter for Keith. “Do you remember any of the words the person who cursed you used?”

Keith nibbled on a piece of the chicken before stepping over to the iPad (as he recently learned to call it). He was getting faster with typing on it, but extended conversations were still hard. Shiro had come up with more ways to get answers, like pulling up maps to ask about where he’d come from and pictures to let Keith pick what he wanted for dinner.

_Only remember the beginning._  

He paused to let Shiro read before typing again.

_Twist the bones and bend the back_

_Trim him of his baby fat_

_Give him fur black as night_

Thinking back to it made Keith uneasy, even if that was all he could remember. What followed was the crippling pain of his body being broken down and reshaped. He hardly recalled what the woman looked like, but the words she’d used to condemn him would haunt him forever.

Shiro took the iPad to look the words over before erasing them, shaking his head. “Simple words. You really didn’t hear anything else?”

Keith shook his head. 

Shiro’s brow furrowed and he looked tense as he sat down.

“I’m just going to be honest here. Based on what you’ve told me, it seems like your curse is conditional. That means that the person who placed the curse set a condition you need to meet for it to be broken. No other magic can undo it. The stipulation has to have fit in with the spell, and it can’t require anything physically impossible… but that’s about it. It could be anything.”

Clearly, Shiro was trying to tell him that the chances of him being human again were slim to none. And for some reason Shiro thought that was upsetting. But for years Keith had walked the earth alone, sure that he’d never find anyone who would believe him if he tried to tell his tale. He pawed at the iPad till it lit back up and typed a message.

_Can I stay here still?_

“Of course you can! We aren’t going to stop trying; we just need to change our approach a bit. You can stay here as long as it takes – and then some!”

It really spoke to Shiro’s character that he was so ride-or-die for someone he’d just recently met. A someone who was a cat, no less. But from what he told Keith, he’d inherited his magical abilities from his grandmother. She was a healer. But his gift wasn’t quite so useful. He could help people, but only if their ailments were magical in nature. The impetus to help those who needed it stayed with him even after his grandmother passed. He’d dedicated his life to using his gifts to lift hexes and cleanse spirits. It just so happened that Keith wandered into it.

Even if it was care for the generalized world and not him, specifically, Keith was touched that Shiro seemed to care.

_Thank you._

\---

The more time passed, the more comfortably Keith settled into his life with Shiro. He wasn’t treated like a pet, if anything he was treated like a grumpy roommate. Shiro taught him how to work the TV and prepared food for him before he left for work each day. He always came back smelling of essential oils, most often a blend of rosemary and lavender he favored. Keith had grown very fond of it.

The iPad was kept plugged in so Keith could “talk” whenever he wanted. At first their evenings were all spent leafing through books trying to find a way to break Keith’s curse - memory spells to see if he could recall his condition, written spells to see if they could conjure it. All to no avail. Finally, one day Keith asked if they could watch a movie that he’d seen advertised. Shiro seemed hesitant to stop looking, but knew a break would be good. One relaxed night turned into two. Then three. Then a week.

And Keith didn’t mind it one bit.

He’d curl up on Shiro’s lap or shoulders, sometimes stealing his scarf to bundle himself in. Even when he was human he’d never felt so safe and warm with another person. _Home_ back then meant being alone in his shack, curled up around a fire with a blanket around his shoulders and food in his belly. It was something he could never trust in the hands of someone else, something he thought was gone forever once he was cursed. But in Shiro’s company he always felt at home.

\---

The end of February was uncharacteristically warm. Winter snow was being washed away by spring rains, leaving the air crisp and refreshing when Keith curled up on the windowsill for his afternoon nap. The sound of the lock turning made him perk up and glance toward the clock.

Shiro was noticeably quiet when he came inside and toed off his sneakers, dropping his keys and the mail on the kitchen counter instead of their dish near the front door. There was no usual greeting, or immediate dive in to stories about the irreverent teens who piled into his crystal shop very day. Instead he went straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

Keith meowed at him and nodded to the iPad before hopping up onto the counter to reach it.

_You’re home early._

Shiro didn’t look at it immediately, making Keith whine impatiently. “Just a second,” he grumbled, digging through drawers until he finally gave up on a bottle opener and pulled his wand out of his coat pocket.

“I closed up a little early, slow day.”

_But every day is a slow day._

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

A tap of his wand sent the bottle cap loose and onto the counter. He took a long swig, and then pulled a can of tuna from the cabinet. Keith made a face as Shiro peeled the top of the can off and dumped the mushy contents onto a plate. “I’ll leave this for you, we can get something better tomorrow ok?”

With that, he took his beer and retreated up the stairs to his bed.

At first, Keith was in honest shock. He’d never seen Shiro act so cold. He gave the “dinner” Shiro left out for him a weary glance and let his eyes wander over to the mail. There were the standard bills and take-out menus, but also a dark purple envelope with silvery writing on it. It was addressed to Shiro and was from Sam, Colleen, Katie, and Matt Holt. The names were familiar. Shiro told stories about the Holts from time to time. A framed photo of him with Matt and Pidge on a beach hung on the wall above his desk. Now that Keith thought about it, the Holts and his own grandmother were the only people Shiro ever talked about.

Carefully, as to not rip the envelope, Keith hooked one paw under the side and flipped it over. On the back was the same silvery lettering, ornate and right over the envelope closure.  
  
_Happy Birthday!_

Oh.

Maybe Shiro hadn’t seen it.

 It took some maneuvering, but Keith managed to carry the card up the stairs to Shiro’s room. He was wearing his clothes and laying on top of the covers, staring up at star maps that covered his low ceiling. He didn’t flinch as Keith hopped up onto the bed, but let out a surprised grunt when Keith dropped the card onto his face.  
  
“Go watch TV or something.”

Shiro put the card on his nightstand and rolled onto his side, away from Keith. But Keith wasn’t deterred. He meowed and bit into the card again, hopping over Shiro’s head to lay it in front of him. Unamused eyes went from Keith, to the card, and back again. “If I open it now, will you let me nap in peace?”

Keith nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Shiro hoisted himself to an upright position. Keith held the envelope in place as he tore the top open and worked the card out. Two photos spilled into his lap as the pair looked at the card front, an art print of the moon’s phases. The inside read:

_Shiro,_

_Happy not-quite-your-birthday! I hope you’re enjoying being six and a half!_ (Keith tapped at that part curiously, prompting Shiro to explain his luck in the birthday draw.) _We all miss you lots and hope you’ll come visit sometime soon._

_Love,_

_Matt, et al._

_P.S. If you don’t come soon I’m going to the city and dragging you here myself. - Katie_

Shiro left the card open as he flipped over the photos. One was recent, showing Matt much taller than in the picture downstairs, with Pidge who had gotten a haircut. They were smiling around a one-armed snowman with a notch in its carrot nose. The other photo was older, a three year old Pidge sat beside a birthday cake lit up with candles, with a younger Matt and a gangly Shiro with all black hair and braces.

A muted, fond smile came to Shiro’s lips as he held each photo. Keith curled up against his thigh, letting them sit in silence until Shiro finally spoke.  
  
“I used to spend all my birthdays with the Holts,” he started, “They always invited me and Grandmother over. Mrs. Holt used to make me these really nice cakes with fruit and cream between each layer. We were like family.”

“Once Grandmother died, they were all I had. They invited me to move in with them. But they don’t know about all this,” Shiro explained, gesturing around him, “Or about my gifts. I was afraid I’d scare them away. Y’know, Keith… you’re the first person I’ve shared any of this with in a long time. Usually I look for people, or creatures, who need help and do what I can from a distance. But I don’t know how to help you. Having you around has been great, but I’ve done nothing for you. I’m sorry--”  
  
He stopped short, shaking his head and putting the photos and card aside.  
  
There was so much Keith wanted to do, so much he wanted to voice. Shiro had done so much for him; even more than feeding him and giving him a place to stay. He’d lived many lifetimes alone, dreading the endless shift from one day to the next. And in just their short time together, Shiro had him excited to wake up each morning. Years of loneliness seemed kind compared to seeing Shiro in despair.

He loved Shiro more than he’d ever loved anyone else.

For the first time, Keith truly mourned the loss of his humanity. Not for himself, but because what he wanted more than anything was to comfort Shiro. He wanted to thank him for all he’d done, give him a birthday he deserved, and spend the rest of his days protecting him from feeling the pain of loneliness again.

Typing couldn’t convey what he wanted to say.  
  
“Sorry, that was… I’m being over dramatic,” Shiro insisted, avoiding Keith’s gaze. “I should know by now that I’m not a day drinker. Just uh… give me some time to rest. We can get better food later, ok?”  
  
Keith didn’t protest as Shiro set him down on the floor and rolled over again. Perhaps it was the sudden realization draining his energy, but Keith felt very tired himself. 

\---

When Shiro woke up, he was very disoriented. 

Apparently it was 12:05 am, meaning he’d slept for a whopping ten hours.

“Fucking hell…” he grumbled, stretching his arms over his head and listening to his joints pop into place. Rustling sounded in the kitchen, helping to ground him in reality. His earlier mood surfaced in his memory, as well as the promise they’d get food when he woke up.  
  
“Keith,” he called groggily, clinging to the rail as he headed downstairs and rubbing his eyes as he rounded into the kitchen. “Sorry, I completely overslept and I’m not sure anything will be open right now so--”

He froze when his eyes refocused. Staring at him were familiar violet eyes, only now they belonged to a lithe human who was currently wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. The stranger eyed Shiro suspiciously, sizing him up as if this were his house and Shiro was the trespasser.

“...Keith?" 

He nodded.

Shiro stared in awe for a moment, brushing the hair back out of his own face before rubbing his eyes again. “But how-- you didn’t--” 

“Happy birthday.”

Keith’s voice was lower than Shiro expected, and small from years without use. There was an edge to it, despite the cheery message.  
  
He stepped away from the counter to show what he’d been working on - a twinkie from Shiro’s secret stash of junk food that had been butchered with whole strawberries between each crumbling slice.

“I know it’s not, um… it’s not like the one in the picture. But I figured it was close.”

Shiro couldn’t stop the small grin from curling his lips, looking from the sugar-ridden mess to Keith. “I was going to wake you up. I’m not sure how this happened to me, but I know it was because of you.”

He hesitated for a moment, but took a few steps closer and reached out to put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “Thank you. I can never thank you enough, Shiro.”

It was the sweetest his name had ever sounded.

“Keith, I-”

“Can I kiss you?”

It was said without humor, Shiro’s cheeks redder than Keith’s as he stared down into the other’s unassuming face. “I was going to just go for it but I know you preach patience so if you really want me to wait till I’ve been human again for a few more hours then I’ll wait.”

The circumstances were weird. Keith was a million times more forward when there wasn’t a keyboard between his brain and the rest of the world. But his touch was more comforting than ever and he was more handsome than Shiro could have expected and Shiro couldn’t remember another time he’d wanted so badly to be kissed.

“Well. If you want--”

Keith’s mouth was on Shiro’s before he could finish.

Neither of them knew what they were doing. But Shiro’s arm went around Keith’s waist and Keith hugged Shiro’s neck and both of them couldn’t help but think how well they fit together.

When they parted, they stayed close together; both of them indulging in the first embrace of many.  
  
“You should eat your birthday cake. And first thing in the morning we should call the Holts.”

Shiro snickered at that.  
  
“What?”

“I might have mentioned to Matt that I had a cat named Keith.”

\---

_Twist the bones and bend the back_

_Trim him of his baby fat_

_Give him fur black as night_

_And sullen eyes for human fright_

 

_If he craves his person bare_

_Altruistic intents will lead him there_

_Human kindness, the milk to quench his parch_

_Will cease the neverending march_

  


**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY SHIRO'S BIRTHDAY @fox_an_hound!! I hope you enjoyed this!! I've never written anything modern-fantasy style before, but I saw witches listed on your requests and got really inspired! 
> 
> I might add a nsfw second work/chapter to this au!


End file.
